Not Alone
by Izzy'sBelle
Summary: I've been alone; Surrounded by darkness...


**So...this was originally gonna be a one shot, but has now sort of turned into a two shot. Apologies for this first chapter being so short but it made sense to split it here...and I was being nagged by a certain someone, mentioning no names (Sam!), to post something. I also apologise in advance if this or indeed the second part are cheesy but I had the idea and couldn't not write it. The song lyrics at the beginning are from 'Not Alone', written and sung by Darren Criss.**

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><p><strong>I've been alone  Surrounded by darkness**

**I've seen how heartless / The world can be**

**I've seen you crying / You felt like it's hopeless**

**I'll always do my best / To make you see**

**Baby you're not alone / Cos you're here with**

**Nothing's ever gonna bring us down / Cos nothing can keep me from loving you**

**And you know it's true / It don't matter what'll come to be **

**Our love is all we need / To make it through**

The sting started to ease as he watched red water washing down the plug-hole. He waited for the flow to stop before splashing his face quickly and wrapping a towel tightly around his arm. He was lightheaded but in the haze came a sort of peace; the only peace he seemed capable of achieving since that day in June. Making his way across the landing towards his bedroom he was barely aware of the noise of a busy pub which floated through an open door. He closed his bedroom door behind him; going to secure it before remembering his mum's safety measures after discovering his secret had included removing the lock. He lay down on the bed and wrapped the thin duvet around himself. The other benefit afforded to him in the aftermath of his new self-destructive habit was the ease with which sleep came. In the months before he had tossed and turned for hours on end; on a good night managing a couple of hours light slumber which the slightest noise would drag him from instantly. Now he was out like a light the moment his head touched the pillow.

'Aaron!'

The voice coming from behind him was familiar; it was the same one which filled his dreams every night.

'Aaron!'

It was more insistent this time; demanding rather than seeking his attention.

'What?'

'I was thinking...if you could change one thing about your life, what would it be?'

He groaned, knowing that his interrogator wouldn't rest until he answered. 'I'd have a boyfriend who doesn't wake me up in the middle of the night to ask stupid questions.'

'Very funny. I'm serious though, anything. If you could go back and change one thing; or even change who you are. What would it be?'

He gave in, dropping onto his back so they were face to face. 'Jackson; do we really have to talk about...' He froze. The sight that greeted him wasn't the warm, brown eyes he had been expecting. He was no longer in his bed; the air was cold on his bare torso and the wind blew leaves around his feet.

_JACKSON WALSH_

_Born 4th August 1989_

_Died 7th June 2011_

_Loving Son & Boyfriend_

He visited the gravestone every day; although he dismissed the idea in conversations with those around him he really did feel closer to his lost love here than anywhere else. He crouched down, head bowed, and ran his hand across the engraved lettering; the marble was cool and hard as ever and the tears that fell were as fresh as the day it had happened. He balled his sleeves in his hands to wipe his eyes, not noticing the white powder until it covered his face. He looked around, confused until his gaze fell back on the headstone in front of him; that same headstone but the inscription now unrecognisable. He reached out once more and watched as the words disappeared completely on contact, like chalk from a blackboard.

'If you could change one thing about your life, what would it be?'

The question that had seemed so ridiculous earlier was now all there was. Every other sound, every other thought was pushed aside. But what was the answer?

It seemed obvious; every day since he had helped Jackson end his life he'd been plagued by regret. He'd go back; back to that day and he'd fight harder. He'd make Jackson see that his live, their life together, was still worth living. But what life? The life he'd hated? No. He'd go back to the night of the accident and not get out of the van; in fact better yet they wouldn't have been in the van at all. He'd ignore Mickey; pretend that he hadn't even seen him. Mickey? The reason they'd been at Bar West that night, the fight they'd had when Jackson had blurted out his feelings...it all led back to that man. Well to him selling the guy a clocked car anyway. That was it! He wouldn't buy the car; he never should have anyway. Cain had given him nothing but grief about it and he'd ended up losing money rather than making any. He and Jackson would be back in their post-holiday bubble and those three little words would come along down the line. At the right time, not in the midst of a public slanging match.

Aaron dropped to a sitting position; ignoring the dew from the grass seeping through the thin material of his pyjama bottoms. He was contented; he knew the answer. He squeezed his eyes closed, hoping to be taken back to the warmth of his bed and of his boyfriend lying beside him. Instead another idea flashed through his mind. If he could change anything, surely he could choose not to be gay? How had he not thought of this earlier? When he'd first realised who...what...he was he'd spent every waking minute wishing it wasn't true. When had that stopped? He couldn't pinpoint it exactly but he knew who had made it happen. Jackson...if he wasn't gay he'd never have met Jackson, but would that really be such a bad thing? The thought of it felt like a knife going through his heart now but if he wasn't gay he wouldn't feel that way. Jackson would be alive and out there in the world doing his own thing and he'd be living the life he'd longed for; uneventful, normal...boring even.

A light penetrating through his closed lids pulled him from his contemplation. It didn't matter; he was sure now. He felt his mattress beneath him and reached out a hand; stroking the cold, empty sheet beside him.


End file.
